


Behind the Walls

by Miri Cleo (miri_cleo)



Category: September Issue (2009)
Genre: F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 18:01:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/298521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miri_cleo/pseuds/Miri%20Cleo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grace sees things about Anna that no one else sees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behind the Walls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gnomad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gnomad/gifts).



_Fashion's not about looking back. It's always about looking forward._ —Anna Wintour

 _At some stage in her career, Anna Wintour stopped being Anna Wintour and became "Anna Wintour", at which point, like wings of a stately home, she closed off large sections of her personality to the public._ —Brockles

*****

Anna’s hands are not beautiful. Grace often looks at them still, and she sees that the cameras did too. They are not delicate though Anna does delicate things with them. But they have always seemed to Grace as strong as the woman herself. They have always been an awful contrast to the coquettish little things that Anna doesn’t know or perhaps just won’t acknowledge that she does.

“Did you watch the film?” She knows she doesn’t need to ask. They were both there. But she’s watched it since. She’s watched it closely.

Anna only responds with silence, but Grace knows she’s watched it again too. She’s never been struck by Anna’s silences, even when they were alone more, and especially even when they were more vulnerable.

What people don’t realize—and Grace isn’t sure they even realized it after the film—is that Anna is often vulnerable, partially at least. When she’s alone with the camera, Grace sees it—and other times too. When she looks directly into the lens and talks about fashion its almost as if she could break.

And watching that, Grace wants to crack open. The volume of memory inside of her is always threatening, and Grace doesn’t know how Anna packs it away so tidily when she cannot bear to distance herself from any of it. It’s something she’s grown comfortable with, even when it stings.

Grace can remember the feel of Anna’s hands on her legs.

“Well, then.” Grace sat, folding her hands in her lap, but her eyes darted around the room. She wasn’t ready to settle on Anna for too long. Not just yet. “I thought it was fair.”

“It was very fair…to you, especially.” Anna doesn’t look up, but Grace stares at her directly, prematurely. Anna’s sunglasses are neatly folded by her side. Her coat is draped across the back of the sofa in a carefully haphazard way. She is tired of being in hotels already and Grace has only just arrived. This is the only time, she knows, they will really be alone.

“Honestly, Anna.” She rolls her eyes. It’s as if they’e never had this argument. Grace is seen as more approachable. Grace is seen as more human. But Grace won’t put up with it, and she knows Anna knows it. “It was a lovely issue, and its how we do things. It was good for the magazine and for you.”

“It was a good issue.” Anna looks up then, and Grace knows it’s the only acknowledgement she’ll get beyond what Anna said at the end of the film. And who knows when all of that was cut together or what really prompted it. Grace liked to think that perhaps—just perhaps—it was some small acknowledgement of those quiet moments they’d shared in the past twenty years.

It was the way she hid behind her words, behind the curve of her hair before looking directly at the camera. It was like being pricked by the stars on the coldest of nights. And even the days when Grace could taste Anna’s sweat on her lips, when their bodies had been tangled together lazily, that look never disappeared.

“I thought it was a lovely issue,” Grace says quietly as she leans back. She closes her eyes for a moment. Things were always better when hard won, and some of that issue had been hard won. But she still didn’t know when to step away from a losing battle.

“You laid claim to it rather keenly.”

Grace opens her eyes and raises one of her almost nonexistent eyebrows. “Of for God’s sake, and why shouldn’t I have? Most of the pictures were mine, the girls styled by me, and still some of the best ended up at the mercy of your slashing.”

“Grace…”

There’s so much inside of her threatening to expand, to push all of the words she doesn’t actually say out. It’s been years, and they haven’t spoken of it since the last time—not even in a stolen glance or a quick but meaningful touch like there used to be. It was all fun at first, but even then, Anna hadn’t been hers. And truth be told, she hadn’t been Anna’s either. “There are moment when,” Grace pauses as she shakes her head, “when it took everything, I had.”

“Grace.” Anna’s voice is softer this time, and she’s leaning forward. Grace can smell her perfume, but she cannot feel her warmth. “Let it go. Time to move on to the next issue.”

Grace is silent. There will always be another issue for Anna. Time will always be marching forward. Grace sees it in their faces, the lines around the eyes, the grey hairs they fail to hide. Yet Anna still captives her. Anna will always captivate.

There are so many things Grace can bring to life with a garment, with a picture. She can retreat to them and force them to come alive, and she wonders if Anna’s retreat was ever really her. She hopes so, for Anna’s sake. Because those moments were more beautiful than they were tender.

There is a moment where neither of them breaths. They have known it together before, and Grace knows they will know it again even though it will not lead where it once did. Anna comes out of it before Grace does by leaning forward more but only to reach for her mobile.

“About your shoot tomorrow…I’m still concerned with the second location…” She sets her lips, and Grace knows her glimpse behind the walls will not be extended any longer.

Grace squares her shoulders. “I have to have freedom to work, Anna…”

Anna sighs. “Yes, I know, Grace, but…”


End file.
